Bellatrix's voice was raspy and macabre, scraping against their hearts like the icy claws of an Inferius.
She possessed only a human upper body; her lower half had been warped into the horrific, segmented body of a giant centipede. Countless slender, blood-red hands sprouted from the seams of her flesh, looking as if a thousand resentful souls had been stitched directly into her skin.
Ron's eyes widened in sheer horror, his mind a chaotic blur. He stammered, his voice trembling:
"What... what kind of monster is that? Why did Dobby call that thing 'Mistress'? Where is [Mr. Lamp]?"
"It's obviously a trap."
Hermione gripped her wand tightly, her eyes fixed on the writhing, twisted Death Eater. A bead of cold sweat rolled down her forehead.
"This Dark witch's mutation... it's just like what happened to Voldemort last year! She must have been reconstructed by some terrible Dark Magic... Was it [Mr. Lamp]? I'm afraid only a wizard that mysterious and powerful could create something so far beyond human imagination."
"Stupid, filthy blood traitors... Mudbloods... tonight, you shall all become fodder for Kreacher's noble Mistress! You will help fulfill her long-cherished wish!"
Before their very eyes, "Dobby" snapped his fingers.
His energetic appearance shifted and cracked, and within seconds, he had reverted to his gaunt, dejected self.
"Kreacher!!"
Sirius sank to his knees, letting out a guttural roar. He gnashed his teeth, his eyes burning with a rage that seemed ready to incinerate the house-elf.
"If I make it out of here alive, I'll skin you alive! Now, I order you—"
However, before Sirius could finish his command, Kreacher pointed a finger at his own head and blasted himself with a spell!
A flash of light erupted, and his body went limp, collapsing to the floor. A pool of blood began to spread slowly across the stone. Sirius's unfinished order died in his throat, choked by shock.
"Merlin's beard!" Hermione gasped, staring at the fallen figure in disbelief. "Is... is he dead?"
"He's dying," Luna answered calmly. Her blue eyes drifted toward Kreacher, her expression remaining serene and detached. It was as if even this dire peril couldn't shake her—or perhaps, she held a pillar of strength within her that made her unshakable.
Bellatrix—or the creature that had once been Bellatrix—couldn't have cared less about the loyal Kreacher. She simply hissed with singular focus: [Go... Harry Potter! Fetch the prophecy ball my Great Master desires!]
"Ungh!"
As she spoke, she slammed a sharp, chitinous leg into Sirius's back, forcing a pained groan from his lips.
"Don't listen to her, Harry!" Sirius gasped. "Forget about me! Run! Go find Ethan—Agh!"
Countless anxious gazes converged on Harry. Cold sweat poured down his face, and his arms trembled slightly from the sheer tension. After two seconds of heavy silence, Harry spoke, his voice dry:
"What... what prophecy ball do you want?"
"Harry!!"
[Heh.]
Bellatrix silenced Sirius. Her blood-red eyes looked down at the young Savior, a triumphant, mocking smirk spreading across her face.
As expected of a foolish mortal... a few provocations are all it takes to create a rift.
Ah, only the Master who granted her this new level of existence is truly wise and powerful—Wait, who was her Master again?
Bellatrix frowned slightly as a flicker of confusion crossed her mind, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
[The prophecy ball related to you... the prophecy concerning the Savior and the future of this world... delivered in the distant past by the Seer, Cassandra Trelawney...]
"Only those mentioned in a prophecy can retrieve the ball," Hermione whispered urgently. "Otherwise, you'll be struck by a life-threatening backlash. She—and the entity behind her—must be unable to take it themselves. That's why they need Harry!"
But what Hermione didn't understand was this: even if they got the prophecy, what then? Could it really change fate? If [Mr. Lamp] was truly that god-like, why would he wait until now and go through all this trouble?
"Ethan, please... you have to notice something is wrong...!" Hermione whispered, her hands clasped in prayer.
The members of the Enlightenment Society could usually send alerts through their badges. However, the moment they entered this room, it felt as though they had stepped into a different dimension. Every means of external communication had been severed. They were isolated, much like the Anti-Apparition wards at Hogwarts.
"Harry, why are you being so impulsive?" Hermione fretted. "Has all our special training over the years meant nothing...?"
In the dead silence, Harry kept his eyes locked on his godfather. Seeing the desperate, pleading look in Sirius's eyes, Harry slowly began to walk.
He moved through the rows of identical crystal balls. He stared at the endless shelves, but he felt nothing special from them. All he could feel was his own heart, thumping loudly.
Thump-thump, thump-thump!
It echoed in his ears like a war drum. No matter what, he had to save Sirius. He would never go back to that suffocating, oppressive life. Harry took a deep breath, a firm light shining in his emerald eyes.
Even if he had to do it all over again, his choice would not change!
Suddenly, he froze.
His nerves twitched like a plucked string. His head turned, his gaze drawn as if by an invisible thread to a crystal ball on a nearby shelf. It looked exactly like the others, yet Harry could hear a faint, invisible calling. It beckoned him, pulling him step by step toward it.
As he moved, Harry could feel Bellatrix's greedy gaze stuck to his back like a leech.
Pick me up... come closer...
The invisible calling whispered ethereally. When Harry finally stood before it, an old, raspy voice erupted from within the glass:
[Ah... I see it...]
[The brilliant golden light that blankets the sky, like a new sun rising to replace the old, shall shoulder the weight of the world and shine upon the earth alongside the moon's glow...]
[However, fate is not yet set. The Eye of Death watches from above, seeking to drown the sun's radiance in an endless river of blood... dragging those meant to die back into a tragic destiny...]
[Unless... like pulling a nail, the four remnants He left in the mortal realm are exorcised, and the God-Slaying Artifacts are gathered to pierce His spirit and end His fate forever!]
[Otherwise, the sun shall never rise, and all that has been done shall be in vain.]
Harry listened to the end with a grave expression. His green eyes were filled with utter confusion and blankness. A giant question mark popped up in his mind.
...What did that even mean?
"New Sun"? "Eye of Death"? "God-Slaying Artifacts"?
Wasn't their ultimate enemy Voldemort? How did "Gods" get involved?! Was this even the Wizarding World he knew anymore?! At that moment, Harry felt like a total dunderhead trying to follow a high-level lecture at Ravenclaw. He recognized every word, but when put together, they made zero sense. He could only stand there like a confused bystander at a show he didn't understand.
[You found it, didn't you... Give it to me! Now!]
Bellatrix's roar broke Harry's train of thought. Her long, centipede-like body scurried forward anxiously, her sword-like legs scraping against the floor with a bone-chilling skritch-skritch-skritch. She filled the corridor between the shelves like a writhing mountain of flesh, radiating a terrifying pressure.
Harry raised his hand, and the prophecy ball flew into his palm. He then turned around, holding the ball precariously in one hand in a dangerous stance.
His green eyes bored into her hideous face as he said, syllable by syllable: "If you want it, come and get it yourself."
Sirius for the prophecy!
[You overconfident brat! You dare negotiate with me?!]
In a fit of rage, Bellatrix stabbed a leg downward. A spray of blood erupted from Sirius as if he were mere livestock. However, when Harry tilted his hand, making the prophecy ball look as if it were about to fall, Bellatrix froze.
Damn brat! Threatening me with the prophecy... You want to save him? None of you are leaving alive tonight!
Bellatrix's pupils flickered. She said slowly, [Fine, I agree... All I want is the prophecy ball.]
[As for this pathetic relative of mine, you can have him.]
With that, she spared a contemptuous glance at the weakened Sirius and slowly raised her massive body. She coiled and writhed, looming over Harry from above.
The moment her legs pulled away from Sirius's body—Harry moved!
He raised his wand, which he had been clutching the whole time, pointed it at Sirius, and shouted:
"Accio—"
Snap!
A red light flashed, followed by a spray of blood! Harry's wand was knocked from his hand, and a deep, bone-deep gash appeared on the back of his palm.
[Hahaha!!]
Bellatrix extended her sharp, blood-red fingers, her triumphant grin splitting her face almost to her ears!
[Stupid Savior! Did you really think you could snatch a hostage from under my nose—]
But in the next second, Bellatrix's laughter died, replaced by pure shock.
Even without his wand, Harry's gaze remained unwavering. His blood-soaked hand pointed straight at Sirius like a wand itself.
He bellowed: "ACCIO!!"
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